


Fun to play for, fun to keep

by perfect_light



Category: White Collar
Genre: M/M, Stripped by Miss Jeeves, nod to Third Marauder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 09:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1505531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfect_light/pseuds/perfect_light
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Characters owned by Jeff Eastin. </p><p>Tag on to Stripped by MissJeeves. Best to read (or re-read) that first. Nod of deep thanks also to The Third Marauder for David Tanner alias in Detoxification. </p><p>Early in their story: Season 1 sometime.</p><p>After being strip-searched by Jones in Peter's presence, Neal disappears. Peter became rough in the process, furious at Neal, and furious at his own responses.</p><p>He just wants to forget...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fun to play for, fun to keep

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stripped](https://archiveofourown.org/works/155122) by [MissJeeves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissJeeves/pseuds/MissJeeves). 



 

 

He walked uncomfortably to the Men’s’ Room, still clutching the jacket in front of him.

He had told Jones that he had found the chip, and thankfully Jones was loyal enough not to ask questions. He still had a pile of paperwork to get through, and had decided to get it done at home, after a shower and a kiss from his lovely, desirable, fantastic wife whom he loved and was always faithful to, even in thought. Always, **_always._ **

He had plenty of time to forget all about the regrettable stunt his CI had tried to pull. Stupid, idiotic. Hadn’t Peter risked enough for this jerk, already? And he should also be able to forget his regrettable actions, which were verging on vengeful. Either throw him back in prison, or...or...not tussle with him on the floor, and...and... …that wasn’t professional. **_At all._** And his body’s even more deplorable responses were just a result of being away from his wife for so long.

And why didn’t they fade, for heaven’s sake? Okay, they were, a little...he’d just go to the bathroom and splash his face. That’s what he needed to do. And forget all about it. As quickly as possible.

He pushed the door open and it swung back as he walked right in. He closed his eyes thankfully. No-one had noticed his hard-on, there were very few people there at this time of night, this was all going to go away. He started towards the cubicles, and heard the squeal of furniture across the floor. He spun around, and Neal was leaning back against the table he’d pushed in front of the door. His shirt was open, his tie missing.

“Caffrey, what the hell - !”

“You’re always so forceful about me telling lies, Peter,” Neal smiled at him sadly. “Don’t you think it’s about time you started setting a better example?”

Peter seemed to be having trouble breathing. Or thinking up anything to say when he had some breath in his lungs to do it. He tried, “Get out of...” Neal’s smile, he noticed, had changed. It wasn’t the normal, guileless grin. There was no humour, no softness. It was hard and predatory. His mouth felt dry. He’d seen Caffrey take on one alias that had a smile like that. Only one. It had scared him shitless, and this scared him now.

Neal was holding his jacket, much as Peter was. And for the same reason. He took it and put it behind him on the table. His shirt was wrinkled, Peter noticed (that never happened with Caffrey), and Neal slipped it off his shoulders, threw it to join his jacket and ran his hands up his arms and onto opposite shoulders. Down his chest, trailing finger-tips across his stomach. He had dropped his chin and his eyes, watching Peter from under his eyebrows, seemed almost evil. He shook his head at Peter.

Peter swallowed and his apprehension started to morph into self-protective anger. He said, “Neal, you can’t - what are you - ? - this isn’t you!”

“Me. Criminal, remember? Might as well make the most of it to get what I want.” He shook his head again, and for one moment Peter wondered if somehow Neal had hit his head on the floor in that room....Part of Peter wanted to ask what he wanted, but he also really didn’t want to know.

Neal unzipped his pants and toed off his shoes. His socks were also missing. He pulled off the rest of his clothes and turned, folding the pants onto the table, and leaning forward over it. “Don’t lie to me, Peter,” he said.

“You’re mad!” Peter managed, scowling, but his voice sounded strange even in his own ears.

“Yeah?” Caffrey said, turning back, one eyebrow raised. “Lose the jacket, then. Prove it.”

Peter wouldn’t, couldn’t. He stood a little straighter and insisted, “Get away from the door, or I’ll take you into custody for...for solicitation.”

“Oh, Peter,” Caffrey shook his head. “Were you prepared to pay me? I never even asked! How much is my body worth to you?”

“Get out of my way or I’ll just handcuff you and say...I’ll say...say...I’ll just push you out of the way!”

“I think the handcuffs would be a nice touch, actually,” Caffrey snickered, his facial expression not changing, eyes wide, as if he was scaring himself by what he was doing, Peter thought. “In line with your whole power-play earlier. But you can’t get rid of me that easily. You’re not going to man-handle me out of your way.”

“Give me one reason why not?”

“Oh, Burke, please. I’ve been in the system, I’ve worked for you, and I had the kind of smarts you seem to lack when I was about fifteen. You can’t because I can yell rape - well, attempted rape - right now. Scream. Jones is still in the building, my phone is set to call him with one little push.” He showed Peter the phone.

“I’ll just tell them what happened, that you - that it was all you...”

“Mmm...and the DNA?”

“What damned DNA?”

“When you...decided to push me around earlier, force your attentions on me, as it were, you drew blood.” Neal watched Peter’s face go stiff. “Now I know you didn’t think of it. Just a scratch with your fingernails. Minuscule...if it had been anywhere less tender, I wouldn’t have noticed it at all...I know you didn’t wash your hands, it seemed like nothing to you. You went and spoke to Jones, you phoned Elizabeth. You collected your files and papers. You know DNA evidence, pesky stuff, they can find minute quantities these days. They won’t look for it, unless I give them a reason.”

“You wouldn’t.” Peter’s mouth went dry. It would destroy him. Neal wouldn’t do that. But then, he didn’t think he’d have treated Neal the way he had, either.

“I don’t have to,” he said, softly, turning his back on Peter. Peter couldn’t look away from Neal’s perfect ass. “Come on, Peter. You can tell yourself you had no choice. You don’t, you know. My tie and socks are already in the locked drawer of your desk, a little soiled, shall we say?” Neal slipped his hand in his trouser pocket on the table and produced two condoms. “You don’t even have to prepare me. Did that already.” He was obviously putting one condom on his own hard erection. Everything seemed to go into slow motion.

Peter considered his options and groaned. He had put himself in this ...position. If he hadn’t indulged in his power-play with Caffrey, if he’d just taken the chip.... it’s also possible that Neal wouldn’t have felt the need to retaliate...

...he walked forward, and Neal turned and lifted Peter’s jacket off his shoulders, slowly removed his tie and then his shirt, running his hands over Peter's chest...Caffrey threw the items of clothing one by one to the floor, just as his had been, with just a suggestion of anger.  His belt...Peter moaned, his erection was painful, and Neal was humming, smiling, his face down.

His pants and boxers round his ankles, Peter stood, watching and feeling Neal roll the condom onto him, listening to his blood pound in his ears, as though paralysed.

“Nice,” Neal said, stroking him with lubricant, looking into his eyes, his expression almost apprehensive again, blue eyes wide. Then he turned and stood to give Peter access.

Peter wanted to hurt Caffrey, wanted to make him pay, but he didn’t. He was gentle, at least at first: he hated himself, but he wanted to do this right. Caffrey was pushing back, moaning, enjoying every move. When Peter hit his sweet spot, thrusting harder with every heartbeat, Neal whimpered, arching, leaning back, his dark curls on Peter’s shoulder, their bodies moving together as though they’d been lovers for years.

When he came, pushed over the edge by Neal’s cry of cresting elation, his whole body convulsed with ecstasy and release and pleasure that darkened his vision...God, he’d almost fallen … and then he found himself leaning on the table. He could hardly stand, his thighs and knees felt weak. Neal had somehow stepped aside, and was rapidly dressing.

Peter reached down and grabbed his pants, flushing with embarrassment. Neal shrugged on his jacket and leaned over, kissing Peter full on the mouth. It was a long, deep, lover’s kiss, and Peter found his hands in Neal’s hair, holding him, moaning as Neal made happy sounds in his throat. Then Neal pushed the table out of the way, made to go and then came back and stroked Peter’s cheek softly, looked into his eyes, at his mouth, placed one long finger against his lips. “You see, Peter, I wasn’t really after that chip at all.”

It wasn’t until much later, in the dark, as he tried in vain to sleep, that Peter wondered what the hell had happened to the two condoms. And he never even thought about the possibility of a recording device that Neal had hidden in the room. No audio, the visuals were compelling enough. Placed so that no-one could actually read their lips, no reflections were available, but Peter’s attempts at assertion came across as intimidation, and Neal’s oft-shaken head and expressions looked like pleading for mercy and then submission... As Neal had said, he had smarts. Had to have. And it didn’t do to let anyone have too much control and have no backup-plan in place.

He used Mozzie’s programme to strip all the meta-data and clipped it so that it started with Peter issuing orders and ended with him slipping away, a look of false disgust on his face that would have fooled anyone. Except possibly Peter, and he wasn’t going to count if this ever came to light.

He encrypted the file against casual viewers - nothing Mozzie or even the Bureau couldn’t break if absolutely necessary, sealed it in an envelope and gave it to Mozzie. Along with the DNA profile he’d just received back from a private lab: ‘Unknown Sample from Condom Provided’.

“You’ve got safe places no-one will find, and access to the whole world, Moz. Just promise me, you won’t...will **_not ever_** open this unless I personally ask you to, or I tell you that Peter’s gone bad on me...and if anyone other than you attempts to access it, it’s destroyed.”

“It’s yours. I promise. It’ll take him down?”

“Won’t have to use it, don’t think. Leverage, only. Always good to have, you taught me. Bargain only from a position of strength if at all possible. I wouldn’t want to destroy Peter even if he killed me: I love Elizabeth. And he’s just a government pawn. But if he needs to be reminded that he doesn’t, in fact, own me....”

“You learned well, mon frere! Codeword?”

“How about, ‘Strip-chip poker’, Mozzie?” Moz repeated it faithfully, and Neal knew he would never forget.

Neal looked down at the brown package between them, handed it over and smiled. Fun to play for, and fun to keep. A bargaining chip, indeed!

 

 

Comments and criticisms very welcome...please! 

Fin


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